+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Hushed Willows [M]In the shadows, I cry your name (/showthread.php?tid=60019)
[M]In the shadows, I cry your name - Reina - March 01, 2024
Mature Content Warning
This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Traumatic visuals, murder, gore, blood, violence.
There was an eerie calm in Hearthwood, too still and too silent. The red wolf walked through the Town, ears turning to catch any sound, any sign of life. Yet there was nothing. No one. She searched the dens, the scents inside them had long gone stale. It seemed the Town had been abandoned for a long time.
How long have I been asleep?
She attempted to call for the others, but it was as if her vocal cords had been severed. No words could form; she could still breathe, still make sounds, but words were unattainable. A panic rose, a silent scream. Nothing. Her wide eyes searched frantically, her body trembling with fear.
She was alone. Again.
In an attempt to find others, she ran to where Reverie would be raising her children. She knew it well, her nightly walks allowing her to memorize every detail of the area. She thought that maybe her pack had been called together while she slept and it would make sense for them to go to Reverie; new mothers rarely left newborns for long.
But, she saw no one. The only sign of life was the trail of blood that peeked out from the den’s entrance, a stagnant pool of congealed blood rested there. The healer’s heart pounded in her chest. She ran, but it felt like running in quicksand. The faster she pumped her legs, the slower she moved.
She growled in frustration. In a blink of an eye, she was inside, staring into the lifeless eyes of her father, her mother next to him, her three siblings, her natal pack, her current pack. Their eyes had found her, all looking toward her from what they had originally focused on—the lifeless bodies of Reverie and the babies.
Whispers began echoing in the den, bouncing off the walls.
You weren’t there.
Your fault.
They’re dead because of you.
You loved her, you killed her.
Look at them.
LOOK at them.
LOOK AT THEM.
Her tears, her scream, followed her into wakefulness, nausea churning her stomach before violently expelling the stomach contents onto her den floor. Sobs wracked her body as the events of her nightmare replayed itself, over and over. It felt real, so real. The bodies of Reverie and the babies were burned in her memories. No matter how many attempts she tried to return to sleep, the images remained, tormenting her.
The restlessness returned, and knowing that sleep would not come, she left her den, making her rounds to find Reverie, safely sleeping in her den, her babes tucked into her body. Reina stayed there, for a moment, blue eyes drinking them in, pounding heart slowing as she watched them sleep.
Her thoughts drifted, picturing a little, unconventional wolf family, brother and sister tied together by a red ribbon. Three young pups born from the sister, four pups sired by the brother, splashed with red and gold.
Another delusion, another dream.